What is and What Should Never Be
by Aglaranna
Summary: A Down the Rabbit Hole twist on an old classic, a D’Jinn grants Dean his dearest wish, a world where his mother never died, he never went hunting, and be with the woman he loves. Little did he know it would involve fatherhood! DeanxOC
1. In Which Dean Takes A Tumble

**What Is And What Should Never Be: A Down the Rabbit Hole Short**

**By Aglaranna**

**Show: Supernatural**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Summary:** A Down the Rabbit Hole twist on an old classic, Dean is trapped in a dream by a D'Jinn that grants his dearest wish, a world where his mother never died, he never went hunting, and where he could be together with the woman he loves, Kelly Jones. Takes place after the end of Book 1 and a month before the beginning of Book 2.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or it's characters, the likes of Sam and Dean Winchester belong to the mind of Erik Kripke. I will hasten to add that Kelly Jones and any subsequent OC characters (including the children) are my creative and intellectual property and I'm very proud of them.**

**Chapter One: In Which Dean Takes A Tumble  
**

It was a dark night, a stormy night. Thick stone gray clouds hung thick along the edges of the horizon, blanketing the sky and hiding away the stars. The moon could not be seen. Held captive behind the shifting mass of moisture colored like the rocky granite walls of the Sierra Mountains, it hung above the outlying of an industrial sector of Joliet, Illinois. Below, the black asphalt of the roads and the steely roofs of the buildings were slick and shiny from the latest rainfall. They gleamed beneath the yellow street lamps lighting the abandoned sidewalks and run down sheds. Droplets of freshly fallen water clung to the eves and dripped down off the long sheets of metal, coating the windows in a glistening spray. A gentle ping could be heard through the streets as the latest rain steadily slid off the rooftops and beat against the ground.

The last six days in Joliet had been wet, with the nights even more so, a courtesy from the last summer storms to have been blown inland off the Atlantic. Almost dead as it treaded the border between Canada and New York, it regained life as it drew from the Great Lakes. Sweeping over Buffalo and Cleveland, it traveled up over the tip of Michigan before plunging back down to Chicago and settled over Joliet. The storm had come on a Thursday and it had stayed until Tuesday. Today. And it was well past midnight with the sane and responsible half of the local population was tucked away, safe in their beds dreaming of tomorrow's workday and the coming weekend, leaving only the insane, the drunks, and the visitors to be accounted. Tonight, there were relatively few of those out looking for trouble. But if they were, the night was certain, trouble was what they would find.

Below the hidden moon and the watchful starry-eyed gaze of the cloudy sky, the black tires of a 1967 Chevy Impala blew silver spray across the road. Inside the cab, Dean Winchester sat in the driver's seat, his large callused hand wrapped around the steering wheel, his dark hazel eyes focused on the road spreading out before him. The stereo blared his latest compilation of 1970s mullet rock, the hard and heavy beats shaking the plastic of the dashboard as the singers droned on about better days and road worthy revelations. The lyrics were filled with crappy turns of phrase about love fulfilled, lost and found, it was a hopeful kind of shit and recent events had left him in no mood to listen to it. Dean glanced down at the radio and cursed. He couldn't bring himself to turn it off. If he did, he'd have nothing to cloud his thoughts and without a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a shot glass in the other, and a preferably pretty blonde whispering sweet nothing's in his ear, Dean Winchester refused to be alone with his own silence.

The windshield wipers struck away the last of the fallen rain from view as Dean hit the gas. The outside world was as black as his mood, blacker in reality. Deep inside him, there was a welling pit of despair that made him want to howl like a madman and claw at his eyes. It made him want to take yank out his 1911 Colt semi-automatic and put three rounds in the back of Kelly Jones' bloody fucking head! Maybe that would make him feel better, Dean gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning the lines of warehouses. He needed to focus. He was on a job. People were disappearing around here, dying, and Dean would have bet his father's favorite gun that the probable cause was supernatural. It was even money, odds in his favor.

Dean winced as a face flashed through his mind, a dark haired girl with large brown gold eyes and a smile that could make a fire cold. His heart shuddered in his chest as the Impala slowed to a stop before the winking red lights. He could practically hear her voice whispering in his ear. _Forever and always._ No, that was what he wished she'd say. Strike that, it was what he wished he could say. _God, when did I turn into Sammy?_ He had never been that sappy. No one who knew Dean Winchester would have ever called him a romantic. He wasn't the kind for grand gestures or loud, overeager proclamations of love. That was Sammy's thing, the kind of man Sam was. Not him.

Again, she was looking at him with sad eyes. Seeing his expression, her fingers stretched towards his face, a smooth movement, one of habit. He remembered her jerking back, eyes hooded and heavy with sorrow as she turned away from him, as she looked at his brother.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He just wanted the pain to stop.

It had been a month since he'd made that damned deal. A month since he, Bobby, Ellen, Kelly, and Sammy had slain the Yellow-Eyed Demon and Samuel Colt had forced him to open the Devil's Gate. Dean had expected there to be mayhem and chaos as hordes of demons and god knows what else were let loose across the globe. He'd expected the beginnings of Hell on Earth, the End of Days, a war to end all wars. He'd thought that the Fey would take this opportunity to unlock their borders and surge back across the mortal world.

That had been in June. It was now early August and summer was beginning to fade towards fall. There hadn't been a peep out of the Supernatural community. Everything was quiet and it was, in essence, business as usual. That was what he what doing out here in the middle of the night, searching through the streets of Joliet, Illinois. He was hunting and it was business as usual.

Still, he couldn't keep his mind from returning to the night the Devil's Gate opened. To when he'd stared down at Kelly Jones, wounded in her battle with her fellow Hound, afraid to touch her, to hold her, fearing that the wrong move would break his deal and see his brother turned to dust and the love of his life a wraith of distant memory. She was bound to Sam now. It had been some sort of ancient ritual performed at the same moment he was making his deal with the Crossroad's Demon, all part of a set of Fey rules and mumbo jumbo that Dean didn't really understand. It had something to do with soul possession and who owed a higher contract to whom. Basically it all boiled down to the fact that Dean's soul on it's own wasn't good enough to buy his brother back, the woman he loved had been forced to give of herself to keep his bacon from the frying pan and tied her soul irrevocably to his brother. Making them, Dean's mouth twisted in a sour smile, "soul-mates".

He didn't understand the bond that had been fashioned out of Sam's revival. His brother had once tried to describe it as constantly touching the mind of another, but Dean refused to believe him. The whole idea was completely alien to him and the way it had turned Kelly and Sam into a matched set worried him. One never strayed too far from the other and in times of trouble they seemed to reach for each other unconsciously. Sam would often react to Kelly before Dean could even tell that something was wrong and the way his brother protectively watched over her as she slept rankled his brain. It was Sam's right to do that, these days he knew Kelly's mind better than anyone. Still, it shouldn't be his responsibility to take care of her; that had been Dean's place and Dean's duty. But he had sacrificed all that to save his brother, given up the one thing that mattered most to him, it had been his decision and he couldn't blame it on anyone but himself.

Lately, he tried to avoid them whenever possible, it seemed to be the only way to quell his raging jealousy. He tried to be out of the motel room, trolling the bars, or working a case, keeping his mind focused on the disaster looming large on the horizon.

That way he wouldn't have to think about her, or the way his arms itched to hold her. He could ignore his fervent desire to send Sam packing when Kelly disappeared into the shower, his desire to follow her and douse her beneath streams of hot steamy water. He could blind himself to his need to run his fingers across the creamy flat of her belly and count the scars cut into her back. To tilt her chin to face him and press his lips against her soft ones, devouring her mouth with his. He wanted to chase her tongue and pinch her ass, and make her hit him in indignation or threaten to bash his head into the nearest wall. He wanted to see her cheeky grin and hear her gasp, moaning beneath him as her fingernails clawed against his shoulders, her body writhing. He wanted to hear her whisper his name in the darkness as he planted feather light kisses down the curve of her neck.

But mostly, Dean Winchester wanted to stop being such a sap.

On nights like these, Dean didn't trust the calm, he suspected a storm, but knew that until it broke, he could do nothing. Nothing but sit still and watch his girl get ever closer to his brother.

Looking up and realizing he'd been sitting at the stoplight for nearly ten full minutes, Dean pressed down on the gas pedal and his 1967 Chevy Impala, his baby, spluttered for a moment, then lurched forwards. As it did, Dean heard the ringer of his cell phone; it's plastic body vibrating against his thigh through the pocket of his jeans. Reaching down, Dean pulled it free and pressed the phone against his ear. He didn't have to look at the name or number to know whom the caller was, only one person would ever try to call him at regular half-hour intervals.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"So, I think I found something."

His brother's voice crackled clearly through the speakers and Dean felt his own heart beat slow. In the moments before answering the phone, anticipation had pulsed through his blood stream, nervousness making his palms sweaty and his pulse race. He was relieved that the one person he both did and did not want to talk to wasn't the one to pick up Sam's phone. When Dean talked to Sam, he could sometimes forget for a moment that they'd ever found Kelly Jones; that they back in the old days, just two brothers chasing adventure on the lonely American highways.

"Really?" Dean answered. "Cause I got to tell ya, Sammy I haven't turned up jack." He paused, shifting the cell phone to his shoulder as he tapped the steering wheel with a free finger. "But since you and Wonder Dog got me sifting through fifty square miles of real estate, is it a surprise I haven't found anything yet."

"Hey, Kelly offered to come along and help you look." Sam said. His voice sounded strained with an edge that was defensive, possessive, and protective, the kind that made Dean's hackles rise with irritation. "And that is the place where most of the victims have disappeared. You could probably have used her nose."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. He forced himself to keep his own tone light and say the words that he knew would have his brother up in arms. "Like I really want the help of a half-wit jackal who'll spend half her time sniffing and pissing on the fire hydrants."

Dean could practically feel his brother stiffening on the other end of the line. There was a long pause, filled with crackling static, as Dean waited for his brother's reply. He listened as Sammy swallowed, he could practically feel the steam boiling out of his brother's ears. Sam had gotten a lot more sensitive towards all subjects involving Kelly and that made him easy to tease. _You just gotta insult her 'till the cows come home._

"Dean," His brother said with a long, suffering sigh. "Do you think maybe, just once, you could talk about her like she's nothing more than an animal?"

_She's a valuable and important member of our team, she's saved our lives and we've saved hers, distrust is a disruption that mars the cohesion of the whole. How are we supposed to find a way out of your deal if you won't work with us?_ All of Sam's sayings that would normally follow his comment flooded through Dean's mind, making his throat thicken. But he let irritation have the rein, when it came to Kelly and Sam; he intended to be belligerent, stubborn, and mean-spirited.

"Don't worry, Sam." A far away voice hit Dean's ears and his fingers on the wheel tightened. "If he wants to call me Hound Dog, I'm just as happy to dub him Mule." _You're an idiot._ Dean thought, kicking himself as he listened to her laughter. "Tell me, Dean." Her voice was much closer now. She was probably sitting right next to Sam, her cheek practically pressed against his. "Which of us would make a prettier beast of burden?"

Dean didn't respond as he listened to Sammy chuckle, instead he wiped his brow with a clammy hand and let his eyes scan the warehouses again. At this point it was probably best to just ignore her. _So much for pretending she's not there._ "You said you found something?"

"Just one thing," Sam said. "And I had to run it by Kelly just to make sure it actually existed." Suddenly, his brother coughed, he'd obviously been smacked.

_Question is why would he think Kelly's more of an authority than his old musty books?_ Dean just assumed that it had something to do with the time she'd spent with the Yellow-Eyed Demon and left it at that. She'd come back to them with a deeper knowledge of all things that went bump in the dark. _But most commonly she just says that, if there's a legend about it, it probably exists… Somewhere._ Which his brother shouldn't find very helpful in confirming whether or not a mystical being was real. _Unless Kelly's finally opened up about what happened with Old Yellow-Eyes._ She'd been tight mouthed as a clam about it ever since the demon had died. Dean had suspected it was only a matter of time until she opened up, he swallowed the disappointment that it hadn't been to him.

"Which is?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's gonna sound pretty crazy, Dean." Sam trailed off.

"Oh, dear lord, just tell him!"

"I hate to say it, but I'm with Kelly and a bag of Cheetos on this one, Sammy."

"We're hunting a Djinn." Sam said.

"A friggin' genie?" Dean asked as the Impala rumbled beneath him.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"What you think these suckers can really grant wishes?"

"I don't know," Sam said. His tone clearly indicated that he was leaning over a large pile of books; he was using his slow and ponderous professor voice. "I guess they're powerful enough. And," now his brother was checking over his shoulder, which probably meant Kelly had wandered off or buried herself in another musty tome. "Kelly didn't seem to know much about them, says they're from the wrong part of the world. Apparently, the Djinn and the Fey don't cross paths very often. But," there was a tapping sound and Sam bit his lip. "She sounded worried Dean. I mean these aren't like the Barbara Eaton in Harem Pants, from what I've been reading Djinn have been feeding off of people for centuries. They're all over the Qur'an."

"My god," Dean sighed. "Barbara Eaton was hot wasn't she?" There was nothing like a good reference to get his blood up and pumping. Memory of her served to distract him from the more pressing matters of his heart. "Way hotter than that Bewitched chick."

"Are you even listening to me?" Sam asked.

Dean cleared his throat, forcing the image of Barbara Eaton belly dancing topless in a sequined thong to the back of his mind. "Uh, yeah." He said. "So where do this things lair up?"

"Um," Sam said. He was clearly leaning over his research again. Dean bet that his little brother had the books spread out all over the table, categorized alphabetically by title and date of publication. "Ruins mostly, the bigger the better, more places to hide."

"Okay," Dean said. "Well, I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out."

"Wait," Sam said. "No, no, no, come pick Kelly and me up first."

The thought of sharing the car with Kelly made Dean's stomach swirl and ripple. It would probably be fine if it were just here, but she and Sam were a kind of odd couple now. Plus, Dean really didn't want to watch his brother's socially awkward attempts at flirting, especially not with his girl. No, Dean would just have to go it alone.

"I'm sure it's nothin' I just want to take a look around."

"Dean, I mean it. This thing's even got Kelly a bit spooked and if she's worried…" Sam's voice trailed off as Dean hung up the phone. A loud beep pierced the noisy air for a second and then dissipated. Dean stuck his phone back into his pocket. He was sure that everything would work out fine.

Fifteen minutes later, the night black 1967 Chevy Impala rolled to a stop beside an old ramshackle warehouse. The rain had recently begun falling again, the splatters coating the hood and windshield of the car. Dean pulled up the parking break and stepped out into the downpour as he looked up at the building. The outside walls were a patchwork of different materials and steel plating, spaced apart by barred windows. Moving quickly to get out of the rain, Dean moved to the steel door cut into the side of the building. There was no lock on it and the knob turned easily beneath his fingers, as he pushed it open the door gave a low, solemn creak.

Lifting his flashlight high to shine around the musty hallway, Dean walked inside. He ignored the cobwebs hanging overhead as he made his way through a series of large rooms, coming upon a storage space with a series of desks with abandoned lamps and typewriters. The steel file cabinets upright and closed, a thin layer of dust covering the furniture and assorted office supplies. Covering his mouth, Dean withheld a sneeze. The world was silent around him as he came to the end of the room; a tall wall with large panes of glass separated one half from the other. Dean stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. It felt like he was being watched.

Slowly, he gripped the knife in his hand and lifted it to his chest. The point had been dipped in lamb's blood, the elixir Sammy had prescribed for killing a Djinn. Dean's back muscles tightened as he tensed; then spun into the next hallway, his flashlight high as he scanned from one side to the other. There was nothing there.

_You're jumping at shadows, Winchester._ He thought, lowing the light. If Kelly were here right now she'd be laughing at him. _Though her nose probably would have picked up anything that was living here before we even went inside._ That ability of hers was helpful, even if it did cut down on the suspense.

Irritated, Dean swung the light up one end of the hallway to the other, scanning again. The hairs on the back of his neck hadn't relaxed and his muscles were still tensed, his instincts were saying it wasn't safe yet. _So, where is the bastard?_ He wondered, checking behind him. Still nothing. His heartbeat quickened and suddenly, he knew he was in a game of cat and mouse. _But is he the cat and me the mouse? Or am I the cat?_ Knowing his luck it was probably the former.

His eyes caught the reflection of light at the end of the hallway and he slowly began walking down it. The floorboards creaked beneath his biker boots, the soles of his shoes leaving large footprints in the dust. The silence was screaming around him. Something was coming. Dean regulated his breathing to slow, soft beats. He didn't want this thing, this Djinn to hear him coming before he was ready to strike.

_I'll kill the thing._ He'd show Kelly and Sam that even a lowly mortal could defeat something mighty and powerful. _I'll show her._ And maybe then Kelly would stop watching him like he was made of glass, ready to come apart in her hands if she touched him the wrong way. _I'm not fucking fragile!_ So he was going to die in a year, so what? So what if she and Sam would spend eternity together while he was rotting away in hell? So what?

A heavy propelling force slammed into Dean's side, knocking him against the wall and the heavy windows. Surprise and pain forced Dean Winchester to drop the flashlight as a hand closed around his throat, catching the one holding the knife and forcing it back against the wall. He grunted angrily as he struggled against the creature.

It was tall as a man, taller than him, and humanoid in shape with black pupil-less eyes. Decorative tattoos traced across the being's face, it looked male so Dean assumed that it was. The black lines created a kind of mask of calligraphy, creating swirling patterns that covered the Djinn's bald head and pointed ears. The being had no eyebrows, none except a pair of menacing black lines curving up over each sunken lid. A random passerby could have mistaken the Djinn for a tattoo enthusiast and a skinhead, but when the creature was breathing into his face, Dean could see how inhuman the thing was. A pair of three dark lines cut down across the Djinn's lips like scars, ending at the dimple of his chin. His growling mouth exposed sharp and pointed silver teeth that glittered in the murky darkness. He was incredibly strong.

A second hit against the wall made Dean's left hand go numb as the lamb's blood tipped knife clattered uselessly to the floor. Dean brought his feeble left hand up to press against the Djinn's chest as his other gripped the one holding him by the throat. He grimaced again, sputtering as he struggled against the wall.

A strange cast had come over the Djinn's eyes, their dark emotionless depths glowing a bright vibrant blue. It lifted it's free hand up, palm crackling with the same electrifying color, sparks hissed and snapped as the hand came closer. Dean hissed, flailing from side to side, struggling to find any way to loosen the creature's grip. But it was no use, the Djinn's hand was suddenly covered in bright blue flames, his impassioned expression almost eager as his palm lowered ever closer to Dean's forehead. Dean groaned and kicked, but he couldn't stop the hand from pressing against the bridge between his eyes and sliding through his cropped dishwater blonde hair.

A strange sensation overtook him, like a humming sound in that filled his ears and surged through his mind. His throat caught, his eyes rolling back in his skull, and he stopped fighting. Then, all he knew was darkness.

**AN: **I promised to write this short story/novella about the _Down the Rabbit Hole _version of "What Is And What Should Never Be" after I had to cut it (and some other really good episodes) from _Down the Rabbit Hole_ when I was pressed for length. But then I got really excited about moving on to Grim Fate and this short story got pushed to the wayside, even though it is actually rather important and the events that occur here do have a significant impact on Dean for later in the sequel, especially when he meets a real live version of Ben.

I thought the interim between _Down the Rabbit Hole_ and _Grim Fate_ would be a good place to stick this story and while being able to stay true to the original themes of the episode. "What Is And What Should Never Be" originally emphasized Dean's own feelings of worthlessness and the suicidal tendencies that would eventually lead him to make his demon deal. I think that setting it after the deal in the DTRH timeline and Dean feeling the loss of Kelly would make it all more poignant when the Djinn gives her back to him along with two extra surprises.

To answer any questions about I suppose the relevance this story has to the DTRH plot line, I'll tell you that unlike _Bitch Beer for Two_, what happens in this story with Dean will affect his overall growth (and he'll remember it). This was always planned to be a part of _Down the Rabbit Hole_, and while it's a little late, I thought the idea was too fun not to put on paper and share with you.

Anyway, that's enough for now and yes to answer any early questions the plot of this episode will be tweaked to incorporate some new additions. And don't be surprised if you witness the return of Kelly's human family, some of them anyway.

So, you tell me what you think. I'm sorry that this means taking a little break from _Grim Fate_. But I think it'll be worthwhile.

Oh and here's a little teaser for you: http : // www. youtube .com/watch?v=6NiGVrAP-DA

Follow the link and watch a trailer for the story. All my Supernatural AU videos are about _Down the Rabbit Hole_, so watch them and get glimpses of where the story is going.

I hope you all enjoyed. Remember feedback = love.


	2. In Which Dean Trips On A Truck

**Chapter Two: In Which Dean Trips Over A Dumpster Truck**

At the crash of thunder and the hammer of gunshots, Dean sat bolt upright. Hearing the sound of drumbeats and the deep melodic chords of a string orchestra, he turned his head sideways. To his left there was a flat screen television sitting on a coppery chest of drawers. Something was playing on it, an old movie he thought, somewhere in the jungle. He shook his head, that didn't matter. _Where the hell am I? Where's the Djinn?_

This place, this room was more well to do than the usual rattrap fifteen to thirty dollar a day motels he was used to staying in. The walls were painted a nice shade of forest green. The furniture was polished, if a little roughed up, and he could feel the softness of a mattress and real sheets beneath him. He hadn't felt those since, well… Dean swallowed. _Lawrence._ Back when his mother was still alive. _Before that evil Yellow-Eyed son of a bitch killed her… and…_ Dean paused, none of this was going to answer the question of where he was. _Or how I got here._

The last thing he remembered was the sound of buzzing in his ears and the Djinn's hand pressing against his skull. He'd heard a ringing and then everything went black. _And I woke up here._ To his left someone exhaled a soft sigh, it was rather… familiar… Dean's entire upper body went stiff as a board as he slowly turned his head to glance downwards and saw long locks of brunette hair tossed across a nearby pillow.

It was a woman. He was in bed with a woman. She was lying flopped on her belly, the smooth creamy skin of her back exposed. Pale satin sheets were twisted up over her midsection, hiding the curve of her rump. Her arms were crossed over her body, her head pressed against two large pillows. She seemed content. And clearly she was accustomed to not wearing underwear while sleeping. Dean glanced down at himself; he was naked except for some underwear, blue and red striped boxers.

_Did I go seduce a stewardess when I wasn't looking?_ He wondered. Had she brought him back to her place? _Did I get so drunk I can't remember?_ What was going on? And most importantly, why was he wearing such lame underwear?

Leaning forward, Dean tried to get a better look. Slowly, he reached out with cautious fingers to touch her shoulder. There was something familiar about her, but Dean couldn't place it. As his warm touch connected with her soft skin, Dean felt her body shiver and she sighed softly, rolling towards him. Dean scooted backwards to make room, his legs scrambling on the bed sheets and he almost went over the edge. They were sitting on a queen size mattress, a good fit for two, but without much room when one party is trying to escape the other.

Breath catching with surprise, he stared down at her sleeping face. A face that was all too familiar. _Kelly?_ What was she doing here? That was the first important question. The second: _Why is she naked?_ Followed in quick succession, finally the rest of it was all filtered out by a horrifying realization. _Oh hell! Damn! What the hell have I done!_

A terrified wail that swept through his mind as he threw off the sheets, his legs catching in the smooth satin, tangled up as he struggled to get off the bed. _Sammy! Oh hell! Sammy!_ He should have had more control than this! _Shit!_ Struggling as much as he could while trying to remain as quiet as possible, Dean tumbled off over the edge of the bed. He hit the floor with a crash, surprised to find his landing cushioned by a fuzzy white rug, the sheets still tangled up around his legs. His head banged against a small maple colored bedside table, his crown colliding with the bronze handles of the drawers. The back of his skull began to throb. _Ouch._ Dean thought, rubbing the back of his head and trying to disentangle himself. _What the hell did they make these things with?_ He wondered as the satin sheets continued to stick to his thighs. _Super glue?_

"Honey?" A sleepy voice came from above him.

_Oh yeah, that's my girl._ Dean thought, immediately recognizing her voice. "Yeah?" He managed, his voice sounding scratchy in his own ears. _Oh hell, what did I do?_ Had he killed his brother? Was Sammy lying in a pile of dust and bones somewhere?

"Honey," The second time was more like a groan, the type of voice she always used when he'd dropped himself head first into hot water. "You left the TV on." Kelly sounded incredibly irritated, her voice slightly muffled by pillows. "_Again_."

Apparently, he'd just committed some kind of cardinal sin, though he wasn't sure where it was coming from. Sometimes Kelly spent whole nights up in front of the motel room television, watching anything and everything and usually driving Dean or Sam up the wall. Hearing her complain about the television was hilarious in context, but it confused him, about as much as her calling him 'Honey'.

Dean listened to the springs in the mattress groan as she rolled back over. Confused, he poked his head up over the edge of the bed and saw her lying in the mess of sheets, two pillows squashed on either side of her head. The position of her back said that she was studiously ignoring him. Apparently, she hadn't perceived anything out of the ordinary. _Strange._ Especially given how fresh their break up was. _Well, it's not like make-up or break-up sex is really beyond me._ But Kelly had never seemed like the kind of girl who would give him the satisfaction. _Sammy!_

Dean nearly lunged up off the floor, shaking the sheets loose, he made his glanced around the room and saw a pair of blue jeans lying on the hood of a tall black wicker basked. He assumed it was a hamper, though he didn't remember Kelly owning a large black hamper. Dean didn't pause to consider, terror was still thrilling through his veins, thoughts of his brother consuming his entire thought process. His brain felt like it had been shorted out. _Tell me I did not sleep with Kelly!_ The words pounded against his temples as he yanked the jeans on, one leg at a time. He hooked the belt shut and swiped a dark brown shirt off the floor. He didn't see his shoes anywhere. Slowly, he turned and glanced back at the bed. Kelly was still there, her head cloistered between two large pillows, her face scrunched in agitation, the bridge of her nose wrinkled as her black eyebrows bent together. Dean resisted the urge to walk over and plant a kiss on the top of her head, just in case that did anymore damage. Sam being gone was one thing, but he wouldn't be able to bear it if one more kiss turned her into a wraith. Slowly, he turned around, the bottoms of his feet whispering against the floor as tiptoed towards the door.

"Honey." Kelly's voice made him freeze a foot from the doorway. He didn't have time for this. Dean opened his mouth, his jaw working soundlessly; he wanted to explode at her. Demand to know why the hell she'd let him sleep with her, why she'd let him doom her and his little brother? But for some reason, the words wouldn't come. Nothing about this felt right, something was definitely off. _And I need to contact Sammy to find out what._ On another day he would have checked with Kelly herself, but at this precise moment she sounded far too cranky to be questioned. Above all, Dean Winchester placed a firm value in his own health. _And torn apart by angry hound is not how I plan on going out._ Yeah, he'd avoid her until he found Sam and a phone. Besides, right now Dean wasn't in the mood to have the relationship discussion. _Coward._ "Remote… TV…. Detonate…."

"Detonate?" He asked, a warm smile creeping onto his features. Nervous as he was he couldn't help it; she looked so adorable curled up in a tiny ball with pillows pressed over her ears.

"Turn off."

Apparently, she was in a monosyllabic mood. That didn't bode well for his head. Confused, Dean glanced around the room and seeing the small black remote lying on the table, he picked it up hurriedly and pressed the power button. In an instant the sound vanished as the picture winked off the screen, Dean heard Kelly sigh with relief. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw her slumped in a small heap. _She must be really exhausted._ He thought. But the fact that she seemed okay was a sign that nothing bad had happened to Sammy. _She'd probably be panicking if anything was wrong._ Which begged the question: _What did she do to tire herself out so much?_ Dean wondered if he'd like the answer. _And why don't I remember it?_

Slowly, Dean backed out of the room and shut the door behind him as quietly as he could. He heard an irritated grunt, but nothing else, sighing with relief, Dean Winchester found himself facing an unfamiliar hallway.

The floorboards were a dull gold and freshly varnished, they were made of real wood. The walls were painted a light tan and had a strange fabric-like quality to them. The doorways and trim along the walls were framed with a rich dark wood, a touch darker than burgundy. The hallway was wide enough for two normal sized adults to pass by one another comfortably and had several large paintings mounted on the walls. From where he stood, Dean could see three doors and an opening, which he could only assume lead to the stairs. _So, I'm on the second story._ He glanced back at the door leading to the bedroom. _How did I get here?_ Dean wondered.

Shaking his head, he didn't have time to worry about that now. Striding down the hall purposefully, he walked to the stairwell and began a steady descent. His feet moving silently across the cool boards, he stepped down onto the ground floor. His heel landing on something hard, plastic, he barely had time to catch himself on the railing as the ground gave way beneath him. He tumbled backwards, his rear landing solidly on the edge of the wooden stairs, watching in confusion as a plastic yellow dump truck rolled off across the floor. It's large black wheels spinning as it came to a stop a few feet from the stairs, it's bright paint job like a glowing neon light in the dark gloom shading the stairwell and the entryway.

A single chime echoed through the living, kitchen, and dining rooms as Dean settled on the stairs, trying to get his bearings. Steepling his fingers beneath his nose, he stared at the yellow dump truck sitting in the center of the hardwood floor at the apex between what looked like a dining room and a living room. He stared at it. There was something familiar about it's mold, the way it rolled, the color. Startlingly familiar.

_It's almost as if… No, no way, that'd be too crazy._ It couldn't possibly be Dumpy. That toy had been destroyed when Sam's nursery caught fire. Dean blinked. _Right, Sammy_. He needed to find his cell phone. His right heel and ass aching from his fall, he straightened up with a groan. Rubbing the back of his head, he double-checked the area at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't want to be caught by surprise again. Dean doubted he could fall quite as silently a second time. Seeing his way clear, Dean stepped down and headed towards the living room. Checking for a light switch, he found one behind the doorway. Clicking it, he watched a square lamp flare to life on a small oak table, and then, a few seconds later the rest of the lights came on. Seeing the familiar shape of his cell phone sitting on a mass of piled up car magazines in front of a widescreen TV, Dean crossed the room and picked it up off the coffee table.

Glancing around cautiously, he started to take a seat on the gray couch. But as he sat, he noticed a stuffed unicorn resting on a pink Barbie, Princess Rapunzel coloring book and an open box of crayons. His entire body winced and he nearly took a step back, shaking his head he reached for the book, then stopped, cringed, and hastily started scrolling through the phone for Sam's number. "Hell, this has got to be some crazy dream." He muttered. "I gotta wake up."

Unable to face the horror of Princess Rapunzel Barbie, Dean turned around hurriedly to face the TV. The corner of his eyes catching for a moment on her round face and noticed that her two front teeth had been blackened out. Startled, he found himself wheeling back around and reached for the book. He heard ringing on the other end of the line. His fingers seized the spine as Sam's voice answered on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"What the hell…?" Dean murmured. He was staring at the cover, horrified by the sparkles, glitter, and pink princess dress with gigantic puffy sleeves. She was staring up at him with large blue eyes and a bright glowing grin. The sugary confection of sweetness now giving him a toothache was marred by one thing, a hastily scribbled black marker over Barbie's two front teeth. "Whose is this?" His eyes moved to the upper corner, where it was written boldly in bright red letters S.W. _It can't be Sammy's._ Dean thought. Though, he was completely willing to admit that his brother could be all sorts of girly and would probably let school children braid his hair with daffodils, but still… _What sort of nightmare have I wandered into?_

"Dean," Sam said, patiently. "It's Sam, you called me, remember."

"Sam?" Dean asked. The tension leaked out of his shoulders. So Sammy was okay. That was a relief. _And Kelly too._ Though why she was sleeping in the bed upstairs was entirely a different question.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Dean said. "I don't know where I am." Glancing around the living room, he tried to take note of everything. From the double armchairs in each corner to the couch, a large tub of brightly colored stuffed toys caught his eye. _But it feels like I've been transported the land of Sesame Street and Gymboree._ He thought. Maybe it was his worst nightmare come true.

Concern flooded Sam's voice on the other end of the line. "Why?" He asked. Dean could practically feel his brother straighten up through the phone. "What happened?"

"The Djinn…" Dean said. He had begun pacing back and forth, desperately trying to avoid staring at the tub full of bright fuzzy things. What the hell was going on? And why were both Sam and Kelly acting so strange? "It attacked me."

"Gin?" Sam asked. "You're drinking gin?"

"No, asshat, the Djinn!" Dean snapped. His nerves were already stretched raw after the plastic dump truck, the unicorn, and the coloring book. Dean found himself angrily shaking the book, the face of Rapunzel Barbie flopping up and down, smiling gaily. "Big scary creature!" His irritation punctured his words as he hissed out an aggravated breath. His gaze catching on a cabinet at the far end of the wall, there were pictures set on its surface, framed by gold and tan edges. Slowly, he looked down at the Barbie coloring book. Princess Rapunzel was still grinning up at him. _Creepy._ "Remember? It put its hand on me and I woke up, next to Kelly, which was nice, but last thing I remember she was with you!"

"Wait—" Sam began.

"And next thing I know, I'm getting my ass handed to me by a flipping dumpster truck!"

"Dean—"

"Then I found some pretty princess pinky coloring book. And Sammy, they've got your initials! Where the hell are you? I think I need to beat the retard back out of you!"

By the time Dean paused for a breath, his brother was laughing uproariously on the other line. "Dude, you must have been drinking some wicked stuff!" Sam chuckled. Dean listened to his brother snort. What the hell was so funny?

"I haven't been drinking, Sam." He snapped.

"Then you must've had some dream!" Sam laughed. "I mean…"

"I woke up next too—"

"Kelly," Sam said. "Your wife." That stunned Dean into silence, he felt his jaw beginning to unhinge. "The women you've been happily married to since she graduated high school? That Kelly? You remember her."

_I don't remember marrying her!_ Dean retorted, but he was too stunned to get the words out. _I'm married?_ "Then, the dump truck…"

"Dean," Sam exhaled wearily. "You forgot to make Ben and Sammy pick up their toys last night didn't you?"

"Sammy?" Was all that Dean could repeat. "Why would I make you—"

"No, Dean." Sam sighed. "We're talking about your daughter, Samantha? The one who actually likes being called Sammy?" There was another pause. "Dean, you're drunk. You're drunk tonight? You put the kids to bed and had one too many shots, didn't you?"

"I'm not drunk!" Dean snapped. He found himself staring at the cover of the Barbie coloring book again, his eyes crinkling with disgust. He was not a father! He was not married! "I somehow got mixed up between the signs for Sesame Street and Disneyland and I've had a long night, so start talking sense! Where are you?"

"Where else would I be?" Came the caustic response. "Look, Dean, it's late alright? I'll see you tomorrow, okay? And get Mrs. Winchester to call you a cab or something."

"No, no! Wait!" Dean hissed into the phone. He needed to find some way off Wisteria Lane and the happy homemaker routine, he needed to get back to reality. "Sam!"

"Good night, Dean."

Dean Winchester looked down at his phone as the other end of the line went dead. He stood there for a few moments, listening to the electronic hum, not quite sure what to do. Knowing that his brother was probably having a good laugh about this, Dean shut his phone and stuck it deep in his pocket. He walked out of the living room, needing to get as far away from the prospect of fatherhood as he possibly could.

"I'm married?" Was all he could mutter under his breath, repeating it over and over. "I have _kids_?"

This was quite possibly the worst nightmare ever.

**AN:** The second chapter is up and away. I hope it made you giggle the way I did, if I keep going at this pace I'll be back to working on Grim Fate in no time. Anyway, it looks like it's going to be a fun and exciting time in the Winchester household. I wonder how Dean will deal when he meets his kids? I guess I'll have to keep writing to find out.

Remember feedback = love


	3. In Which Dean Meets His Spawn

Chapter Three: In Which Dean Meets His Spawn

Wandering into the kitchen, Dean sank down wearily onto a tall stool, his elbows resting on the white ceramic surface of the bar as he looked at the small island with shocked and befuddled eyes. _I'm married._ That was the first piece of news. Being married he could handle, Dean found himself staring down at his ring finger, suddenly aware of the extra weight. Registering for the first time the presence of a silver ring on his left hand. It was a medium size, neither a thick slab nor a tiny circlet, and it was inlaid with two tiny lines that circumvented both the inside and the outside. He lifted up his hand and stared at it. Rays of light from outside the window glanced off of the smooth surface, glinting in the dark. _I'm married._ Dean resisted the urge to yank off the ring to see if he had a tan line. _How long have I been married?_ Sam said he'd gotten married right out of high school. _No I married Kelly right out of high school._ There was a difference there. _Do I really have children?_ Not that the toys and the coloring books could possibly suggest otherwise. _Are they mine?_ Dean couldn't imagine Kelly cheating.

Dean leaned forward, rubbing his eyes, willing himself to wake up. This had to have something to do with that Djinn, he knew it did. _How can a man my age have children?_ When had he turned into a redneck hick? _When was I never not careful?_ He was _married_? Deep in thought, Dean resisted the urge to call Sam back and demand to know what the joke was. Though Dean doubted he could take his brother's unreserved laughter twice in one evening. _He could at least have told me what I need to know._ Hell, if Kelly had given birth to these little spawn, then she would probably remember the act. She would expect him to remember! Birthdays, sleepovers, tea parties, soccer games! _When was Kelly born anyway?_ Did she even remember that little detail? _I'm married._ The word didn't seem quite as terrifying now. _I have KIDS!_ Yeah, that still scared the bejebus out of him.

"There's got to be some mistake…" He groaned into his hands. He had a wife waiting for him upstairs. A temperamental wife! _Kelly's hard enough to deal with on a regular basis…_ He could hardly imagine what she'd be like pregnant. Dean groaned louder, he certainly didn't want to find out! _And if her mind's been affected the same way Sam's has, then she's probably…_ She would clearly think of these not just as spawn, but as her spawn. "I'm not cut out to be a father." He wasn't cut from husband cloth either, but that was a different problem all together. He couldn't possibly have children!

Dean felt his elbow bump a stack of unopened envelopes and he stared down at the mail, his heartbeat quickening in his chest. He lowered his hand to pick up the stack and began to flip through them. _Dean Winchester, 53 Barker Ave, Lawrence, KS 66844._ He read, the first one was a bill from Kansas Premier Connect. There were several more in the stack like that, all bills, all addressed to him. _I guess I'm the patriarch, that's what patriarchs do_. The thought made his stomach fizzle. Dean continued to press on, searching for more definite proof that Kelly and her kids, his kids, their kids, lived here. _Kelly Jones, 53 Barker Ave…_ His eyebrows rose, it was from someone at Kansas Falls Community College. He flipped it over and looked at the back it said 'Evening Classes and Continuing Education information enclosed, and below it, 'We look forward to seeing you soon Ms. Jones! Call if you have any questions!'. There it was, a phone number printed out in clean black ink. Dean bit back a surge of irritation. _Miss Jones._ He thought with a snort. _Damn it, she's my wife!_ He paused. He was certainly feeling possessive today.

"Continuing education?" Dean looked down at the envelope again. "She's going back to school?" Where some career counselor had undoubtedly mistaken her for someone young, unwed, and down on their luck. His mouth tightened. Had she gone to college? _Sam said I married her right out of high school._ Had she been pregnant at the time? Why would anyone want to go back to school? Going roundabout once in the public school system had been bad enough for him. But she was a smart girl. _Did I ruin her life?_ Was he the reason she'd never gone to college?

With a silent sigh, Dean put the envelope to the side. He wasn't going to open it, but he was seriously contemplating calling up… He checked the name on the front again, Jerry Sitzer, and play the part of the angry husband. He shook his head again. What was he doing? Tiredly, Dean pressed his forehead against his knuckles and looked down at the next letter. He froze.

So… he was Dean Winchester, married to Kelly Jones, and father of Benjamin and Samantha Winchester. He had the proof here in his hand. Hastily he ripped it open and pulled out a thin leaf of yellow paper. Dean stared down at the letter from Parker Elementary School. It was asking for a Parent Teacher Conference to discuss Ben Winchester's recent in-class behavior. A disruption, the comment said. It was written out with precise curling letters and signed Mrs. Jenkins at the bottom.

_Who's Mrs. Jenkins?_ That name sure sounded familiar. _Not another lesser known face from my childhood._ Dumpy's revival had been bad enough. Dean put down the letter and rubbed his forehead again. Feeling the coolness of the metal against his skin, he lifted his hand and stared at the ring again. _When did that get there?_ When had he gotten married? Why had he gotten married? How did he… never mind, it didn't take a genius to know how Dean Winchester had gotten children. _The real question is, why hasn't it happened yet?_

"Babe?"

Kelly's voice was soft and came from behind him. So, she'd followed him had she? Dean rolled around on the stool to face her, letter in hand. He was surprised to see her dressed in a powder blue robe. _You thought she'd come down naked?_ Dean's mind asked him as he stared at her, watched as she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. He certainly would have liked it if she had! Dean blinked and swallowed. _Now I am seeing her naked._ She looked worried, confused. He'd have to reassure her.

Dean's eyes sliding from her face to her feet and his eyes widened. She was wearing fluffy bunny slippers. Tall ears and big glassy eyes stared up at him. It was almost more frightening than Princess Rapunzel Barbie, almost. But that was probably because Kelly, the girl who spent months being tortured by Azazel was the one wearing them. His eyes went back to her throat, the scars were gone too.

"Hey, sweetheart." He said. Dean didn't want this to be weird or have another conversation like the one he had with Sam. A wide grin splitting his face, he found that it wasn't nearly as false as he'd expected it to be. "I didn't…" He glanced past her and slid off the stool. "I didn't hear you come down."

"Neither did I," Kelly grumbled. Looking around the living room, she rubbed the back of her neck. "Nearly broke my neck on old Dumpy." Covering her mouth to stifle another yawn, she walked into the kitchen. Running her fingers through her dark brown hair, she pushed it back over her shoulder. "We've got to tell Sammy to pick up her toys." She moved slowly, like she was in a stupor and made her way around the island to a cabinet next to the refrigerator. She pulled it open and took down a small glass. Yawning again and fixing him with a reproving stare, she added. "I thought you were going to remind her for me."

"Yeah," Dean muttered leaning against the counter. He rubbed the back of his head, unsure of what to say. "Yeah, guess I forgot." He watched her sigh as she planted the cup on the counter and disappeared behind it, rummaging through the cabinets. What was he supposed to say next? Shit! What would Kelly want him to say? _Apologize._ "Sorry?"

He watched her head poke up from behind the counter, a wry smile on her lips. "I'm not mad, Dean." She said. "But someday, one of us is going to step on Dumpy the wrong way and…" Kelly broke off, looking down. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then straightened up. "Well, anyway, it'll be bad." She pulled out a tall glass bottle from behind her; it was filled with amber liquid. It looked like honey. Dean's eyebrows shot towards his hairline, wondering if he should mention the letter from his, he gulped, son's elementary school.

"Wild Turkey?" He asked as she filled the cup. "What's the matter, Kells? Can't sleep?"

"You know liquor," She said. "It's the adult milk and cookies." Then Kelly glanced up at him with tired eyes and sighed. Her fingernail tapped on the white ceramic for a long moment and she leaned against the counter. "But I'm not the one who's having trouble sleeping." Dean blinked as she picked up the cup and set it in front of him. "Something bothering you, babe?"

"No." He said, looking down at the amber liquid and then back up at her. What was she doing, offering him a drink? "Nothing. Why?"

"Because," she sighed. "It's one thirty AM, I just got back from a three day trip to California, and the kids are sleeping soundly for the first time in two months. See, the world didn't end while I was away. We were in the middle of a very…" She leaned forward over the counter, tilting her head with a smirk. "Happy reunion." Dean felt his stomach fizzle and bubble as she fixed him with a heated gaze. "I expected to find you upstairs, ready for round two." He didn't have to guess to know what she was alluding to. It'd been a while since he'd had the chance to hold her. He'd thought he'd never get the chance again. Now, here she was. "But instead you're down here," her lips pulled back into a wider grin. "Reading the mail." She tilted her head as she glanced up at him. "So my very handsome hubby, I figured maybe you needed some liquid courage." The warmth in her eyes made Dean's smile grow wicked. "Help you sleep through the night?"

Dean chuckled and set down the letter. Picking up the glass, he moved around the side of the island. Taking a small sip from the cup, he slid his fingers up the side of her cheek and into her hair. "I can think of something else we could do." He murmured into her ear. "Much better than sleep." Setting aside the glass, he felt her move against him, her fingers climbing up his shirt. Using his free hand, he rubbed his fingers against her thigh, moving his hand over the soft fabric of the periwinkle robe to the small of her back.

"Much." She agreed, her voice breathless in his ear.

"Yeah." He grinned. Then he moved, his mouth seizing hers roughly in an impassioned kiss. His lips pressing against hers, moving back and forth; tongue prying them open, darting into her orifice to chase to taste her hot breath. She groaned, rotating her hips against his, her arms moving up to wrap around his neck, her fingers entwining in his hair. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, opening her thighs as he slid between them. His free hand moved to tease the tip of her nipple through the fabric of her robe and felt her shiver beneath him. Cupping her breast more firmly in his hand, he brushed his lips against her cheek, his mouth trailing a line of delicate kisses down her jaw to press against the curve of her neck, down to her collarbone. "Much, much better."

"Mmm." She murmured as he reached past her to pick up the glass of Wild Turkey. He put it to his lips and took another sip, his eyes never leaving hers. A flush was beginning to color the apples of her cheeks. "I've missed you, Dean Winchester." Her arms were still wrapped around his neck as she gazed into his hazel eyes and her voice was soft.

"Been a little too long?" He asked, his voice a low chuckle. He kissed her forehead, tucking a dark strand back behind her ear. His other hand slipping down the inside of her thigh, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin and she trembled. Staring up at him wide-eyed, her mouth parted in a small 'o', she let her fingers play the short hairs on the back of his neck. Then a cheeky smirk overrode her features.

"No you for three days?" She asked, using her arm to yank his mouth back down to hers. "Far too long." Her lips bruised his for another long moment as heat surged between them. She pressed herself against him, her fingers raking up his back, nipping and sucking on his lower lip. She let her tongue flick over the roof of his mouth, breathing him in.

Then, a small tremulous voice shattered the mood. "Mommy?"

_Great…_

Dean felt Kelly pull away from him as she glanced over her shoulder. He looked up and in the darkness he could make out a small girl, probably around six years old. She had bright blue eyes and an oval face, her hands linked behind her back. She was wearing a turquoise nightgown dotted with Disney princesses. The frayed edge swayed just above her knees and Dean noticed that she was wearing bright fuzzy pink socks. She was shifting from foot to foot nervously, gazing at them with large solemn eyes.

"Sammy, sweetie!" Kelly exclaimed as she slipped past Dean, hurrying across the floor to the little girl. Dean followed, much more hesitantly, like he wasn't really sure what he should do. He watched as his girl, his wife knelt down in front of the little girl, wrapping her own robe more tightly around her. "What're you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep, I had nightmares." The girl said in a small voice. She glanced up at Dean with oversized eyes and wrinkled her button nose at him. "And Ben said that there was a monster in my closet!" She looked up at her parents and stamped her foot firmly against the ground. "He said it would eat me if I ate my vegetables!"

"Oh, sweetie." Kelly sighed. She was all maternal instinct as she pushed a strand of blonde hair off the little girl's face. "There's no monster in your closet."

"Are you sure, Mommy?" Sammy asked. She didn't look convinced. "What about the booger monster under my bed?"

Dean covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. There was something about watching these two, each with ridiculously furred slippers on their feet that made the entire image hilarious.

"I thought we trapped him in your stuffed bunny." Kelly said. She was tapping her chin, deep in thought, a wry smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "We gave him a stern talking to and made sure he'd protect you instead of trying to eat you."

Sammy nodded. "Yes, I named him Steve."

"What happened to him?"

Sammy stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "He escaped."

"Escaped?" Dean asked. Talking about monsters like this made him a little nervous, he knew what his father would have said about a monster in the closet and sanguine as the advice might have been, he doubted handing six year old Sammy a pistol to keep under her pillow would win him an award for father of the year. _Though it might mean I'm never having sex with Kelly again._ His wife. He was married. He had kids. _Fuck me._ "How did he escape?" He'd never been good with kids and the idea that this one's genetic make-up was comprised of half his DNA made the prospect that much more unnerving.

"Ben popped his container with a needle." Sammy said very matter-of-factly. She spread her arms. "And he went whoosh, back under my bed." She tilted her head as she stared up at her parents, once again shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Do you think maybe, do you think I could sleep with you tonight, Daddy?"

She was staring up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Her large oval eyes surrounded by fluttering lashes and pale eyebrows. The question sounded routine and it made Dean wonder how many times this kid crawled into her parent's beds after a nightmare. But the idea that they probably let her stay galled him even more. _Definitely living another man's life._ He thought dryly. There was a pregnant pause as the silence hung between them, little Sammy tugging at her fingers, her toes curling and uncurling against the hardwood floor.

"No." Dean said. It seemed like the right thing to say. He watched Sammy's lower lip begin to tremble. He didn't need to glance at Kelly to know she was glaring at him. _She really is Mama Wolf._ He withheld a sigh and took a step forward, settling his hands on her shoulders. "Cause you're a big girl now." _And because I really want sex._ "And cause you're a Winchester." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared into her eyes. "And no Winchester ever let a closet monster push him around."

"But…" Sammy trailed off. "What if it's a she? Is a monster scarier because I'm a girl?"

"Nope." Dean said. "Cause the Winchester women are even tougher than the men."

"Oh." Sammy said. "I see." She looked up at him and licked her lips. "Does that mean Mommy too?"

"Yup." Dean glanced at Kelly. "Mommy too. She's the toughest there is." She gave him a winning grin that told him he'd said all the right things. So, he was going to have sex tonight. That suddenly made the situation a bit more bearable. "Come on…" Dean paused. What pet names did father's use for their daughters? "Munchkin." He added. Somehow, with those big blue eyes staring up at him, Dean couldn't force himself to be suspicious. Instead he picked her up by the waist and tossed the little girl over his shoulder. "Time for bed."

"No Daddy!" Little Sammy squealed, her legs and arms flailing as Dean carried her down the hall. "I want to do it! Put me down! I want to do it! I'm a big girl! I don't need you to carry me!"

"Really?" Dean asked. "Cause you know, Princess, only big girls who aren't scared of the monsters in their closets get to do that."

"I'm not afraid!" Sammy said. "I'm not!" She paused in the air, her head swinging back and forth as they headed towards the staircase. "I'm a Winchester like you said, Daddy. I'm a Winchester!"

"Good to hear." Dean said, but he continued carrying her anyway. There was something about it, something that made the pit of his stomach warm. He felt, useful. Like he'd found something more to fill the whole than just hunting. His arm steadying the six year old as they came to a stop at the foot of the stairwell, her legs swaying as she kicked her feet.

"Daaaddy!" Sammy cried, her plaintive whine piercing the air as Dean started up the stairs. He swore he could hear Kelly chuckling behind him, her footsteps light on the wood. Dean gripped the banister firmly in his hand as he climbed. Walking down the hallway to the bedroom with Sam written across the door in big pink letters. _Pink?_ He wondered. _Did we have to go with the pink?_ Gripping the knob, he pushed the door open, checked for the light, finding it he flicked the switch on and walked inside. The little girl, Sammy, his daughter squirming on his shoulder, but he kept a tight grip on her. _Lose my parents points forever if I dropped her._ Plus, he glanced back at Kelly, his…he gulped… wife and saw her leaning against the doorframe, a warm smile on her lips. _So getting laid tonight!_ No deal meant he could indulge in as many fuck happy nights as he could convince her to let him have. _Make up for way too much lost time._ He had very fond memories of the shower. He'd have to see what their new one looked like. _Kelly, hot water, me. Hell yeah!_ It'd been far, far too long. There were so many tricks he wanted to try with her.

"Nope." He chuckled and deposited her, gently, on the bed. He looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to do next. What was the general procedure for putting little ones to bed? "Bed time for the squirt."

He watched as Sammy climbed under the sheets, standing awkwardly at her bedside. He resisted the urge to try and stuff his hands into nonexistent pockets. It felt strange standing around at a child's bedside, his child's bedside in wearing just boxers. _It's gotta be against the parent code or something._

"Yeah," Kelly said from the doorway. "You want to be well rested for Nana Mary's birthday right?"

"Do I get to stay up super late?" Sammy asked. "Like until ten?"

"Ye…" Dean began and stopped. What had Kelly just said? Whose birthday? _It can't be?_ He glanced back at her stunned. _She can't mean…_ Not his mother?

"We agreed to that didn't we?" Kelly asked as she walked into the room, brushing past him and taking a seat at the side of Sammy's bed. "If you got all your homework done."

"I did!" Sammy grinned. "So, I can see Uncle Sam too! He's my favoritest uncle!"

"Favorite." Kelly corrected. "But if you're going to do that, you're going to need a good night's sleep." She reached out and stroked Sammy's small cheek, then pinched the little girl's cheek. "Can't have you falling asleep at the table, not like last time at Auntie Caitlyn's."

"_Mom_!"

"Better get some sleep then." Dean said. _Caitlyn? Who is Aunt Caitlyn?_ He didn't know a Caitlyn. _And Mary?_ Was his mom really alive? He needed to go, he needed to see.

"Can you read to me Daddy?"

Dean looked down into the little girl's hopeful brown eyes. They were so very much like Sam's. Samantha Winchester, his daughter. It made his heart hurt. Slowly, he shook his head. He opened his mouth, but Kelly answered for him.

"No sweetie, Mommy and Daddy need their sleep." Dean coughed, he doubted very much that she was planning on sleeping. "Just like you."

"Okay…"

Smiling, Kelly leaned forward and planted a kiss on the little girl's forehead. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart." She planted her hands on Sammy's shoulders. "No bad monster can hurt my little trooper."

"I missed you, Mommy." Sammy said and hugged her.

"I missed you too, Sammy."

Dean backtracked, there was a little too much love going on in this room. He needed to get away from it. He needed to get dressed, he needed to go home, see the house, see his mom. He had to. He just had to. Heading into the darkness and down the hall towards the master bedroom, he walked past a door labeled Ben in blue letters. He caught a small face peeking out the door crack at him, before disappearing back behind the door. His son. He had a son. Dean pushed open the door and hurried inside, throwing on his clothes, ignoring his wedding pictures. He could look at those later and pulled on a shirt and some jeans. Grabbing his keys from the nightstand, he hurried out and down the stairs.

"Dean?"

He heard Kelly call but he couldn't stop, he was out the door and heading towards the Impala. He was heading home. To his mother.


End file.
